


Nightmares and Coffee

by Just_Here_For_The_Ships



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Coffee, First Kiss, Fluff, John can't sleep, LMAO, M/M, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots, The tag auto fills are so random, This really just lots of fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, it's cracking me up, it's cute, neither can sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-11-28 19:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20972147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Here_For_The_Ships/pseuds/Just_Here_For_The_Ships
Summary: John can't sleep, and apparently neither can Sherlock. They bond over coffee and a little more than bonding ensues. Pure fluff and kisses.Also, Mrs. Hudson knows everything. Never doubt her.





	Nightmares and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hellllo! This is just some fluff I've had in my drafts since June 2018!!! Lmao I took forever to finish this, and my friends are laughing at me right now, I can tell. One of those amazing people that is currently laughing is possibly one of the most influential Johnlock shippers in my life...so this goes out to you Shay! Well, enjoy the fluffy mayhem!

**John’s POV**

  
  
John Watson startled awake. Ever since the war, the nightmares had gotten worse and worse. Blinking sleepily, he checked the alarm clock on his nightstand. The digits read 3:01.  
  
Groaning, he fell back into his bed to stare at the ceiling. There was no point in trying to get back to sleep. These nightmares tore into him like nothing else. Even the traumas of their origin hadn’t seemed so vivid.  
  
He sat up. If he couldn’t sleep, he could at least make a cup of coffee. Rubbing his eyes, he groped around for his slippers and headed downstairs.  
  
John shuffled toward the door. His room at 221B was tasteless. The bed sheets were an unfurnished grey, as were the curtains and rug, creating the effect of being stuck in one of London’s many dreary rain clouds.  
  
As John headed towards the kitchen, he heard some faint footsteps and noticed that a light was turned on. Was Sherlock still awake? No, John was sure he had gone to sleep earlier. He was imagining things. But as John rounded the corner into the kitchen, there he was before John’s very eyes, Sherlock Holmes.  
  
He was bent over some sort of experiment, muttering to himself and looking into a microscope. He barely noticed John as he walked by to get to the coffee pot.  
  
“Nightmares again?” John started, nearly spilling his freshly brewed coffee all over his robe. He turned to face his flat mate. Sherlock was peering at him questioningly from behind the microscope.  
  
“How did you- never mind, I don’t want to know.” John did in fact, want to know, but the explanation would take too long. Sherlock, however, ignored him and continued, gaze nitpicking and dissecting every little detail.  
  
“First, the fact that you have recently oiled the door hinges of your room shows you don’t want to be too loud when you wake up early in the morning. Then, because there has been no obvious sign of income aside from your military pension-which is visible from your habit of frugal spending- and your consistently erratic departure and arrival from the flat, you are clearly still jobless. That simultaneously rules out the possibility of an early morning job, as well as the fact that your early morning wake ups occur at different times. And lastly, the fact that you have plaid pajamas suggests that you weren’t expecting anyone to be awake, as they are clearly not your style. Actually, they probably aren’t in the style of any sane individual.” As he finished, Sherlock smirked.  
  
“Oh shut up.” John mumbled. He blushed a bit at that last comment. He had bought the least expensive pajamas he could buy, and those happened to be the least flattering.  
  
Sherlock quirked an eyebrow, obviously amused at John’s discomfort. He turned back to his questionable experiment.  
  
“Why are you still awake? Don’t you, you know, sleep?” John knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help caring for the man. It was an odd thing, but John felt a certain attraction to Sherlock Holmes.  
  
“As you obviously know, when caffeine enters the equation, one doesn’t exactly need sleep,” Sherlock said with a cocky smirk. “Do you mind?” He said, gesturing to the coffee pot.  
  
“Oh, uh, sure.” John was taken aback by the sudden exhibit of humanity. He passed the coffee pot to Sherlock along with a mug.  
  
“Thank you.” Sherlock said as John handed him the mug. He gave John a small smile, surprising John even more. However, the friendliness didn’t last, as Sherlock turned back to his experiment.  
  
  
**Sherlock’s POV**  
  
  
Sherlock heard the faintest creak of a door and light footsteps. John must have woken up from nightmares again. I wonder if he would sleep better with a companion, Sherlock thought. No, he shouldn’t have thoughts like that about a flat mate, but he couldn’t help it. John Watson was beyond adorable.  
  
As the object of Sherlock’s affection shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, Sherlock couldn’t help but think he was perfect. After sneaking a quick peek at his crush, he quickly looked back at his microscope, even though there wasn’t a slide.  
  
Uh-oh, here it comes: the word vomit.  
  
“Nightmares again?” He heard his own voice, deep and smooth. John jumped at the address, nearly spilling boiling hot coffee all over himself.  
  
John stuttered something as Sherlock mentally kicked himself for being such an idiot. He looked John up and down and admired the way the soldier was built. Then, he couldn’t stop it. As soon as he realized what had happened, he was finishing up his deduction.  
  
“.......Actually, they probably aren’t in the style of any sane individual.” As Sherlock finished, John blushed the slightest bit.  
  
Trying not to be obvious about his affection, Sherlock cockily quirked an eyebrow. Before he could say anymore moronic things, John spoke up.  
  
“Why are you still awake? Don’t you, you know, sleep?”  
  
Sherlock replied sarcastically, still mentally kicking himself for being passive. He wanted John to see him as a normal person, like most others won’t, and currently he was failing.  
  
He said something snarky about caffeine, and to make amends (and surprise the soldier) he asked for the coffee.  
  
John looked taken aback, and turned a nice rose color. Sherlock was internally screaming praise (A/N: praise as in fangirling over John) at himself for the perfect amount of charm and sass he had just exhibited.  
  
As John handed him the coffee and a mug, he decided to fluster the soldier even more. With a small smile, he successfully turned the other man's ears red.

Seriously, the adorableness that John exuded was going to kill him.

**John’s POV**

As Sherlock went back to his experiment, John inwardly groaned. He should not be up this early. Coffee, crushes, and early mornings did not mix. 

Wait. _Crushes?!_

No. Nonononono. John Hamish Watson did not have a crush on Sherlock Holmes. Absolutely not. He did not admire his wavy black hair or multicolored eyes. He did not internally melt when Sherlock revealed his social awkwardness or do something sweet and God forbid, human. He especially did _not _stand in awe when Sherlock solved a case or—

Alright. Maybe he did have a crush on Sherlock Holmes. But it was only that. A crush. Nothing more, and it would stay that way. Not that he didn’t want something more. Urrggh! Why was this so hard?! 

_Fine_, John thought. _ I’ll just find a nice girl, and get over this infatuatio-_

“Are you alright?” A certain someone’s voice broke through his thoughts, and John looked up to see Sherlock looking at him with a concerned expression.

“Yeah!” John said much too quickly, cursing himself. “Yes. I am perfectly well,” He amended. Of course, Sherlock didn’t believe him.

“Are you sure? You seemed very upset just now. Did something happen?” Sherlock’s exhibit of concern just made everything worse. Why did he have to fall for the one person he couldn’t have?!

“No, nothing happened today. I am _fine._” John put enough emphasis into the word that Sherlock raised an eyebrow. He sighed to himself, this was going so _badly_. Might as well tell a half truth.

“I’m fine, it’s just- I don’t- I like someone and I shouldn’t and I’ve always liked a certain type, and now I don’t know what to do.” 

“Oh, so you’re having girl trouble. I would give advice, but that field was never really my expertise.”

“What do you mean, not your exper…. oh. Are you..?.” John trailed off, and unfortunately Sherlock seemed to think that was a negative reaction. If only he knew how wrong he was.

**Sherlock's POV**

John looked at him curiously, blushed a bit, and looked down flustered. Sherlock frowned, if John was a homophobe, that would be a large issue for them as flat mates. He decided it was best to confront John now, so Sherlock tentatively asked a very well thought out, carefully worded question.

“Do have an issue with my interest in men?”

John looked up, startled, and fervently shook his head. His cheeks are cherry red now, and he looked bashfully before blurting out to Sherlock.

“No! Of course not! I, well, that’s actually the thing, I like someone I shouldn’t. And that someone is a man. I‘m not sure of my sexuality.”

“Well, you like both men and women, so are you bisexual? If you are interested in this who are both or neither, then you are pansexual. There are many other forms of sexuality, but these seem to be the two you would most likely fit into.”

John flushed even more, if that was possible. Stepping back, he raised his hand to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Er… maybe the first one? Bi— bisexuality?” John stuttered over the word, and Sherlock melted a bit internally. He smiled at the man gently to help him feel more comfortable.

“Now that that’s cleared up, how about another cup of coffee?” 

John was less shocked this time, passing Sherlock the pot without a second glance. He stopped though, and looked up inquisitively, curiosity and something else in his eyes… perhaps determination and a bit of...hope?

“Well then, we have sorted this out. But you have yet to tell me who you fancy.” 

The ex-soldier stared Sherlock down stubbornly, with an eyebrow cocked up on one side. Sherlock maintained steady eye contact, ready to stare the soldier down. However, as he takes in John’s resolute form, he noticed something, a glint in the man’s eye, his grip on the coffee mug just a tad too tight. Sherlock came to a quick and <strike>not so</strike> shocking conclusion. Now that he knew John was feeling attraction towards him, he couldn’t possibly hurt the man by lying.

“Well, I have a type. Strong, stoic, kind. The typical qualities looked for in a man. But also sassy, blonde, blue-eyed, short.” He winked at John. The other man furrowed his brow, but still smiled despite the jab. “He’d be able to deal with my lunacy easily, and find it incredible when a make a deduction, not a nuisance. He’d follow me to crime scenes, and get into the fray with me. He would question but not criticize too much, and he’d be willing to shoot a threat and put himself into danger even if we had just met shortly before. He is perfect.”

“Wow, you certainly fancy him, don’t you? I hope he knows he’s extremely lucky.” John seemed disappointed, and Sherlock laughed to himself, sometimes John could be so dense.

“Yes, but I believe I am the lucky one, as he lives with me.”

“He- er, I- what??” John’s confused babbles just intensified Sherlock’s feelings.

Sherlock stood and placed his hands on John’s waist. The man’s hands automatically rested on the detective’s chest and suddenly, they were kissing. John’s lips were soft and gentle, but still strong as they moved in sync. His hands fisted in Sherlock’s shirt, and Sherlock leaned a little deeper into the kiss. One of them moaned, but the noise was just absorbed into the other’s lips. If this was what kissing was normally like, Sherlock didn’t see how everyday citizens could move on so easily.

As they slowly broke apart, John looked up at Sherlock with awe and confusion in his eyes. He seemed to be in disbelief, but also not entirely shocked. 

“I should have known,” John whispered breathlessly.

“And yet here we are,” Sherlock chuckled.

John snorted, but smacked him nonetheless. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and he seemed to be hiding a smile. Then, his face scrunched up and he yawned, and Sherlock realized that it was now four in the morning, and even he was a bit tired.

“Alright, we’ve sorted out our feelings, so let’s get some sleep.”

“Mmmh? Oh, alright then. Goodnight.” John turned back towards his room.

“Where are you going?” John turned around to face Sherlock again.

“To my room. To sleep.”

Sherlock pointedly looked at their chairs, where he had smushed them together to make a makeshift bed.

“You really- ah well, no point in arguing.”

And when Mrs. Hudson found them in the morning, she smiled to herself. She really did know it.

  
  
  
  



End file.
